


Brick

by belivaird_st



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 11:22:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15971309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belivaird_st/pseuds/belivaird_st
Summary: There’s a morning that doesn’t agree well with the two women.





	Brick

Carol glared down at the sizzling frying pan on the kitchen stove top, shaking the metal handle a bit, with a dark pink oven mitt. She heard Therese come downstairs, but didn’t bother to look up. She felt the younger woman move towards her until she was close enough to place a hand gently on her upper back. 

“Hey. Good morning,” Therese greeted.

“Morning,” Carol grumbled back. Her body stiffened the moment Therese slipped her arms around her apron-clad torso. She briefly closed her eyes the second Therese playfully rubbed her nose below the mother’s ear along her jawline. Carol let out a shaky breath and violently jerked away.

Therese’s heart sank instantly. She awkwardly pulled back and felt the back of her throat closing up. “Did I... A-Are you...? Is everything alright, Carol?” her voice quivered and grew small whenever she could sense something go terribly wrong.

“Go check the front door and see for yourself,” Carol instructed her. Then she turned back around to their upcoming breakfast and began to slide the square tip of the spatula around the bubbling egg whites.

Therese blinked, confused. She finally managed to move her feet forward and leave the kitchen. Walking down the hallway to the foyer, she stopped and stared at the broken window above the front door. Gazing down, she found shattered glass everywhere on the floor mat with today’s morning paper and a brick with a message folded on top with a loose rubber band. Disturbed, Therese bent over and picked up the folded note. She read the message somebody scrawled out that she was not familiar with:

**BURN IN HELL DYKES**

Dropping the note, Therese moved quickly back into the kitchen. She watched the back of Carol’s head lower a bit with her hair falling over the side of her face. 

“ _Why can’t they just leave us alone?!_ ” Therese cried, outraged. She waited for Carol to speak and agree with her, but she remained standing at the stove in total silence.

“Do you have any idea who sent us this?” Therese angrily shouted, feeling the corners of her eyes sting with tears.

Carol slowly shook her head. Of course not. How could she?

Therese had a few names in mind. 

“Maybe it was Richard? Or Harge?” Therese went on, watching Carol switch off the burner with a deadpan expression. “Oh Carol, we can’t let him get away with this! We got to do something!”

Carol turned to face her and snorted. “The police won’t do a thing about it, so why should we? The damage has been done, Therese. It’s over.”

Therese violently shook her head. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

Minutes later, the women found themselves cleaning up the shards of broken glass in the foyer without so much as saying a word. Carol stood by with a broom and dustpan and stared longingly over towards Therese, who was on her knees, plucking out tiny glass pieces stuck onto the rug mat with a pair of tweezers.

“How could we’ve not of heard that?” Carol finally questioned. 

Therese shrugged. She was still frustrated and sad and disgusted by the whole thing. 

“They’ll always be haters in this world, darling,” Carol kept going. “Might as well get used to it.”

“Doesn’t mean we should accept it,” Therese shot back at her, which left Carol speechless and fascinated with more in store from the younger woman.


End file.
